


two lumps of sugar, a dash of milk and a golden ring

by gothyringwald



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: Credence gets out his favourite teacup, settling it on its matching saucer with care, then pauses with a frown. Something at the bottom of the cup catches the light, glinting. He tips the cup over and a gold ring falls into his hand.A slightly awkward marriage proposal from the prompt 'There was a ring in his teacup...'





	two lumps of sugar, a dash of milk and a golden ring

**Author's Note:**

> This came about as I was looking through prompts to inspire myself for a challenge. This one came from [e.a. deverell's 100 days of prompts](http://www.eadeverell.com/100-days-flash-fiction-prompts/): 'There was a ring in his teacup...'

The shrill of the kettle rings through the air, startling Credence where he stands at the kitchen counter, staring out of the window. Snow falls, blanketing the garden in dazzling white, but everything is otherwise completely still. Credence levitates the kettle over and pours the water into a blue and gilt teapot, replacing the lid so the leaves inside can steep. The astringent scent of black tea wafts through the pot's spout and Credence inhales it eagerly. It's comforting. He gets out his favourite teacup, settling it on its matching saucer with care, then pauses with a frown. Something at the bottom of the cup catches the light, glinting.

He tips the cup over and a gold ring falls into his hand. Odd, he thinks. He turns it over, examining it. He's never seen it before. Neither he nor Percival wear much jewellery. And it can't have been left by a guest. The only people who have visited since Credence last used this cup were Queenie and Tina, and this looks like a man's ring. A thick band, with a small black stone in the centre, curlicues engraved on either side. Simple, but beautiful.

The tea is forgotten, and he's ready to ask Percival about the ring, when something inside it catches his eye. An inscription. He turns it to the light and squints as he reads: _From PG to CB, with my eternal love_. His heart leaps into his throat. It must be a present for him, from Percival. His face warms, pleasantly. How odd to leave it in his teacup, though. But Percival does like to leave him surprises to find, sometimes, Credence thinks, fondly.

The radio is on, a sweet slow jazz tune crackling through the speaker as he walks into the living room, where Percival is reading The New York Ghost by the fire. Or, Credence suspects, as Percival's eyes never move from the same point of the page, pretending to. 

Credence slides into the armchair across from him, ring clutched tightly in his curled palm. Percival peers at him from over the top of the newspaper. 'Thought you wanted tea.'

'Yes, but there was something in my teacup.'

'Oh?'

Credence bites back a grin. He brings his hand up and holds his palm out flat, ring sitting atop it. 'Yes,' he says. 'Thank-you. But what's the occasion?'

'See which finger it fits,' Percival says, then disappears behind his paper, again.

Credence frowns but shrugs and does as instructed. He starts to put it on the middle finger of his right hand when, from behind the paper, Percival mutters, 'Other hand.'

Heart beating faster, Credence tries it on the middle finger of his left hand but it doesn't fit. He looks back to Percival who has given up the pretence of reading completely and is now watching him, intently. Nervously, Credence thinks. He can guess, now, which finger the ring is meant to fit, but isn't sure if he wants to draw the charade out, or not. When he eyes the worried 'v' forming between Percival's brows he decides not, and takes a deep breath. Looking down at his shaking hands, he slides it onto his left ring finger. It fits perfectly. He purses his lips.

'What...?' He says, gaping at the ring, then looking back up at Percival.

Percival blinks. 'If you don't want to, you can still keep the ring.'

'Don't want to what?' His voice shakes as much as his hands. '...Percival?' Credence knows, _of course_ he knows, but he wants to hear Percival say it.

'You can't guess?'

' _Ask_ me.' Credence says, exasperated and desperate, all at once.

Percival rubs his hands along his thighs, rumpling his silk robe. 'You don't want me to get down on one knee or anything?'

Credence shakes his head, biting his lip. He thinks he might laugh. Or cry. Perhaps both.

Percival nods, decisive. He waves his hand toward himself. 'Come here.' He pats his lap, leaning back in the armchair. 'Come sit in my lap.'

Credence shakes his head, but he gets up and crosses the short distance between them, nearly tripping on the trailing tie of his robe, and settles himself in Percival's lap. Percival tucks his face against Credence's neck, almost immediately, breathing in deeply. His stubble rasps against Credence's skin as he moves.

'Credence,' he starts, voice trembling. 'Would you, do you want to marry me?' The words come out in a rush, are simple, no grand declaration of love, but they fill Credence with immeasurable joy.

'Are you asking me, or my neck?' Credence quips but his voice quivers, breathy. His face is warm and his blood tingles through his limbs.

' _Credence_.'

'Sorry.' Credence pulls back and takes Percival's face in his hands. Happy tears blur his vision. One spills over, cooling his warm skin, and Percival wipes it away with a careful thumb. His dark eyes, staring up at Credence, shine. Credence swallows, thickly, and says, 'Of course I want to marry you.'

Percival smiles, eyes crinkling. Credence leans down and, still cupping his face, kisses him. The fire crackles cheerfully beside them, the radio plays on and outside the wind blusters against the windows. Percival's hands fist in the waist of Credence's robe and Credence loops his arms around Percival's neck, shifting closer.

When they pull away, they are both breathless, chests heaving, lips shining. Credence runs his fingers over Percival's forehead, brushing back a stray lock of hair, not yet tamed into place for the day. 'You know, there were easier ways to ask me.'

Percival's face colours. 'I know, I'm sorry. I thought it would be...romantic.' He huffs. 'Now, I think I was out of my mind, so nervous you might not say yes.'

Credence shakes his head. 'In what world would I say anything else?'

Percival shrugs, cheeks pink, so Credence kisses him, again, and again, and again. They kiss until Credence's lungs ache and his head spins, and he reluctantly pulls away, even though he knows they have a lifetime of kisses ahead of them.

'This is beautiful, by the way, thank-you,' says Credence, eyeing the gleaming black stone set into gold, sitting on his finger. 'I'll have to get you a ring, too.'

Percival shifts Credence on his lap, squeezes his arms about his waist, chin hooked over his shoulder. 'You don't _have_ to.'

'I've seen the way all the witches and wizards at MACUSA look at you. I want them to know you're spoken for.' Credence turns and presses yet another kiss to Percival's mouth. 'That you're mine.'

Percival's lips quirk. 'They already know, darling.' Percival kisses his neck, noses along his jaw, up to whisper, low, in his ear, 'The whole world knows.'

**Author's Note:**

> My one-shots are just getting sillier and fluffier. I am OK with this. [Come find me on tumblr](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/)! And, if you're keen, [graves_expectations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graves_expectations/pseuds/graves_expectations) and I will be running a prompt fest for Halloween. [Check out the teaser here](https://gradencetrickortreat.tumblr.com/post/162037353499/trick-or-treat-an-originalpercival).


End file.
